


Rattlesnakes In The Snow

by TurntechLoveThis (angelcult)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Albino Dave Strider, Albino Dirk Strider, Autistic Dirk Strider, Bittersweet Ending, Coming of Age, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinda, Love Stories, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Omniscient, Prostitution, Sadstuck, Selectively Mute Dirk Strider, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/TurntechLoveThis
Summary: nostalgianouna sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.Love stories are rarely sad, but every so often, there is a story of love that is rooted in heartache and broken endings.John thinks that he and Dirk’s story is like that, he thinks it everyday, but only one of them ever knew how it would end.
Relationships: (Past) Jake English/Dirk Strider, John Egbert/Dirk Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	1. Routine.

I’m a firm believer in humans leaving traces of themselves, I think that even if they cannot leave their entire story, they can leave footprints, they can carve words and pictures into stone and in doing so, they can say _“I was here, I saw it all”._ I think that even after thousands of years, they seek to leave fingerprints and footprints and carvings all over the places once frequented in the hopes that someone will tell their stories, that someone will whisper their names into the world and for a moment, they will exist again.

I think that’s what any human wants, even the most self loathing of them, I think they want to be remembered, even for a minute, long after they have died. 

The man who created me didn’t want to be remembered, not by complete strangers but instead, remembered by those he loved, talked about in stories that didn’t paint him as a genius prodigy, but painted him as a dumb sixteen year old with a  _ want. _

I was created by one Dirk Strider, full name Dietrich Allison Strider, born on the third of December. His parents are ones that would burn him into a man of silence and anxiety, his brother is one who would cry at night as he struggled to put food on the table for them. 

The man he fell in love with was Jake English, but  _ that  _ story does not have a happy ending, unfortunately, because oftentimes humans fall in love with the wrong people, they briefly give their hearts away to someone who will damage it, who will carve into the soft surface and then say  _ “sorry I tried, but I cannot love you the way you need.” _

That’s what gives a human depth, I believe, the atrocities of their lives. I say the atrocities because humans often think of the times they were hurt before they think about the times when they were loved. 

It’s an interesting thing, humans, and the way they behave when they are forced to speak about what they remember.

Dirk died young, younger than most, he died before his brother who raised him, before his lover, before his friends and his enemies.

He was assassinated by his own sadness, he didn’t know how to handle love and medication all at once, you see, he could understand a pill and its side effects but he could not understand the sheer force and feeling of love.

Dirk’s story is not a hard one to tell but it is not easy either, it’s one where he didn’t speak to us as a narrator, he sat beside us and observed the story like that of a reader, like he was trying to figure out what came next too.

I’ll tell it, I’ll tell you about the man who created me, I will illustrate his downfall because I loved him, and I won’t paint him as a genius or a hero. 

I’ll paint him as a sixteen year old who had an early expiration date.

  
  


——————

When Dirk was four, his parents died in a car crash while he was home with his older brother. Dirk had always been  _ advanced,  _ some found this to be particularly unnerving when a selectively mute four-year-old breaks his silence to correct a fully grown adult on the theory and movement of light. 

When the phone rang, Dave patted Dirk’s head as he stood up. If Dave had been paying as much attention as Dirk was, he would have realized that the house phone never rang, he would have noted that his parents were supposed to have been home fifteen minutes ago. 

But he didn’t.

And that hurt him more than it helped.

“Hello, Strider Residence… yes, this is Dave..” Dirk stopped listening, because if he kept listening, he’d hear his brother break. 

Humans, even when faced with the death of their adversaries, are fragile things. Their hearts aren’t meant to handle loss, their eyes aren’t meant to cry for so long. 

Dirk is just as human as his brother, but he has very rarely allowed himself to be guided by emotions. 

“Dirk,” The boy looked up from his hands, and his brother was staring at him in pain, his eyes were red, he was crying. 

“Come on, let’s go to the hospital, let’s.. Come on, come on..” He scoops Dirk up into his arms as he speaks, grabbing car keys and his phone, he forgets to lock the front door as he leaves, he speeds.

Fifteen over the speed limit. 

Dirk was strapped in the backseat, watching the way his brother’s hands clenched the steering wheel and how his shades were pushed up on his head, bright red eyes taking in both everything and nothing.

His brother was not made for pain.

When Dave pulled into the parking lot, he parked haphazardly, moving quickly, every second counted.

Dirk did not speak or complain when Dave gripped him a little too hard with his shaking hands, pulling him into his chest and running into the hospital. 

He stops at the front desk and his words are frantic, he’s trying to speak from a mouth that wants to speak in sobs and not words.

“Roxanne and Richard Strider, they-they were just brought by ambulance, there was a car crash and-“

Dirk buried his face into Dave’s chest, felt the vibrations of his panic and his fear. 

He doesn’t need to hear Dave’s words to know that he’s thanking them and they are moving again and double-doors are opening and closing in a rush. 

Dave stops at a quiet room with beeping monitors and when Dirk goes to lift his head, Dave places his hand gently on the back of it and guides it back to his chest.

His heart is beating double time, Dirk will never forget how he thought that if it beat any harder or faster, it would burst in his chest.

“Don’t look, Dirk, it’s okay, don’t look.”

Dirk knew Dave was lying, a little white lie told to try and ease his own hurt while reassuring his brother, but if his brother could have spoken in that moment, he would have assured Dave that it wasn’t okay. 

He would have told Dave that he had a feeling things wouldn’t be okay for a long time.

  
  
  


Their parents died three days later, both of them, and Dirk saw the moment the weight of the world came crashing down on his brother’s shoulders.

The passing month was a flurry of funeral costs and CPS visits and Dave begging them, in a broken, shaking voice.

_ “Please don’t take Dirk, I’ll do what I can for him.” _

_ “Mr. Strider, I understand that this is all hard for you but we believe that putting Dirk in a foster family, even for a short period of time will be good for him.” _

_ “I- I can’t just leave him, ma’am, he needs me. He’s selectively mute and I know that not everyone can understand on the days he doesn’t speak like I do.” _

_ “Well, you’re seventeen yourself-“ _

_ “No one wants a seventeen year old, you know that.” _

_ “By law, I don’t have to discuss this with you.” _

_ A shuddering breath but his brother wasn’t one to back down. _

_ “I know. I know. I can’t leave him, you can’t separate us.” _

_ “Mister Strider, we’ll contact you in a week to tell you the decision we’ve come to.” _

_ The sound of the front door closing, barely masking the angry and pained crying.  _

_ He couldn’t let them take his brother, they were all the other had now. _

  
  


Dave got a job at the local mall in a clothing store. One of those high-end, pricey places that paid good enough. 

It was good enough for the government to let Dirk stay with his brother, it was enough to make Dave smile in relief. 

  
  


“Come here, Dirk, time for bed.” He lifted him up, balancing him on his hip as he took him into his bedroom.

“Cal?”

“You want Cal?” Dave asked tiredly. 

He always seemed tired these days. 

Dirk nodded and Dave nodded back, sitting him down in bed before grabbing the puppet and placing him in the other’s arms. He tucked him in, hands shaking a little. 

Once Dirk was tucked in, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulling back to smile down at him.

“I love you. Sleep well.”

They fell into a routine, Dirk would go to daycare while Dave went to school, and by the time school was out, he had a few hours of downtime to finish homework and then it was off to pick up Dirk.

After that, he drove Dirk home and got ready for work. He’d ask the neighbors to check in on him, assured them that Dirk was a good boy that could look after himself just fine.

He’d kiss him on the cheek, whisper words that sounded like  _ “I love you”  _ and then he’d leave, gone until eleven at night.

It was a routine, but it was one that weighed on the seventeen year old. 

Most of their savings went towards the house, to bills and food, towards Dirk’s daycare.

Sometimes Dave would get papers in the mail that made him sit at the kitchen table and hold his head in his hands, that made him cry, that made him pull at his hair in frustration.

Eventually, Dave couldn’t pay for Dirk’s daycare. 

“I’m sorry, li’l man.” Dirk didn’t need him to say the unspoken words, he already understood. 

It was too much money, and their savings were dwindling. 

Dirk just put his little hands on Dave’s cheeks and nodded, once, firm.

His brother smiled and pressed a shaky kiss to his nose, resting his forehead against Dirk’s.

“You’re such a smart boy. Do you know that? You’re so smart.”

Dirk didn’t respond verbally, just blinked his doe-like sunset eyes at Dave.

“Of course you do, who am I kidding? How about this. I’ll ask my teachers for spare worksheets and I’ll bring them to you. You can look over those, I know you’re smart enough for it.”

A quick blink.

“Knew you’d like the sound of that. I love you, I need to get ready for work.”

One long blink.

_ I love you too.  _

  
  


Dave was getting bags under his eyes, his eyes were getting irritated from having to wear eye contacts, green, to hide the albinism that had seeped into his eyes.

He had bruises on his hands, from using them too much, his body was fragile. 

Dirk breezed through the work Dave gave him, very rarely needing help. (He had trouble with English, he had expressed his distaste with the confusing use of passive verbs many times).

For a moment, Dave cries a little less. 

For a moment, he thinks he can support them.

And then the mall closes, and they only have so much money, and now Dave is forced to make the choice of which is more important, Dirk or school? A house big enough for them and their belongings or Dirk? Eating or Dirk?

The choice is obvious. 

  
  


They sell most of their things, and the money in Dave’s pocket is already going towards the security deposit of their new apartment all the way on the other side of town.

Dirk keeps Cal, he keeps four of his books, (they’re  _ novels,  _ Dave would correct, what four year old reads Ernest Hemingway and enjoys it? One that’s going to change the world, he’d say.), and he keeps about half of his clothes.

Everything else is gone and Dirk, as adult-like as he seems, is only a child. 

Dave knows it, he knows the stress is a lot, he knows that some of the weight on his shoulders is falling onto Dirk’s too but he’s only a  _ child,  _ he’s only a child, what can he do?

The stress is too much, and he stops speaking completely and Dave is shattered. 

  
  


“Hey, Dirk, how are we doing today?” 

Dave dropped out of school a week after they moved. He picked up a second job, it’s not enough, but for now, it’ll have to do. 

He gets no response, he didn’t expect to, but he tries every day, and it’s a new routine. 

Dirk hates their new apartment. There’s mold in the shower, no matter how much Dave scrubs, it comes back.

The walls are thin, he can hear everything and it over-stimulates him, making his skin itchy and too tight but he’s frustrated with himself because Dave isn’t there and he can’t speak.

All he can do is stim in frustration and refuse to cry. 

The bills in this place are lighter though, there isn’t the extra weight of it being a full house. 

The fridge is never full, barely even half. Fresh fruits become a rarity but Dave supposes that the little cups of fruit and bags of frozen mixed vegetables will have to do. 

Takeout food is expensive, so ramen fills the cabinets, cheap cereals and one-percent milk. Crackers that will last and bread that will mold sooner and sooner than the last one did.

But this is home now. 

  
  


“First day of school, you excited for this?” Dave had work at his new job soon but he wanted to drop Dirk off and now they were parked outside of his new school, and Dave was tired, always so tired.

Dirk shook his head.

“No? Why?” He was going to be late.

Dirk stared at Dave and just like always, he just seemed to know. “I know, but it’s okay. The teachers know everything they need to, you’ll be just fine.” He pressed a little kiss to his forehead, he heard those soft mutters that he couldn’t translate, and he sent Dirk off. 

There was a girl named Roxy in his class, she had curly blond hair and the prettiest eyes Dirk had ever seen. She had freckles just like him.

He wasn’t interested in friends though, he just wanted to get through the day, to get through work he already knew the answers to and provided no challenge, no stimulation, a dull thing in his already colorless world. 

A routine.

That they both hated. 

  
  
  
  



	2. Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Money is everything in the world and Dave just doesn’t have enough of it.

“Let go? What do you mean let go?”

Dirk watched from the hallway as Dave sat in the kitchen that doubled as their dining room, on his phone, head in his hands as he spoke.

“I can’t.. I understand, thank you.”

When the call ended, he sat his phone down in a way that showed he wanted to throw it, raking his fingers through his hair, angry and frustrated, tears in the back of his throat.

“Dirk,” His voice cracked and the five year old stepped out of the shadows of the hall, looking at the phone and then back to his brother.

“Come here, li’l man.” 

Dirk walked up to Dave and was lifted into his arms, a little kiss pressed to his temple, soft mumbled words sweetly traced into his skin and then he was sat down on the table. 

“Got any words for me today?”

Dirk didn’t speak but he tapped his fingers against Dave’s phone and he watched his brother’s eyes gloss over with tears and he nodded.

“Smart boy, yeah, they uh, let me go. Pay cuts, ya know? I’ll find another job, Dirk, I’ll find a new one.” He sounded more like he was convincing himself than Dirk, like he was trying to fight tears.

Dirk patted Dave’s cheeks, he was so small compared to him, even at the age of five, and Dave gently clasped his hands.

“I’m okay. Shouldn’t be putting this all on you.” Dave pressed a little kiss to his forehead again, like he was trying to make up for all the things he couldn’t do with affection. 

“Come on, it’s bedtime.” 

He lifted him up into his arms, holding him close to his chest and Dirk laid his head over Dave’s heart, listening to its smooth rhythm as he was carried into his bedroom.

Dave dressed him for bed, hands shaking like they always seemed to nowadays.

Dirk hadn’t eaten that night and neither had he, they didn’t have any food in the fridge, and Dave didn’t have a job. 

That night, Dirk woke up in the middle of night to Dave’s soft sobs. They drifted through the stiff and silent air of the too small apartment. 

Dirk slipped from bed, leaving Cal in bed alone with the silent promise of returning and padding quietly into the living room. 

Dave must have caught sight of him because he went quiet and sniffled a little.

“Dirk?” Voice raw and hurt, naturally, he got no response aside from Dirk crawling onto the futon with him, curling up under his arm.

“Sweet boy,” Dave pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Dirk found himself drifting into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of his brother.

  
  


Dirk very rarely went out for recess with the rest of the kids, teachers often too worried that he’d burn from his albinism, and settled for letting him stay inside and write.

He had a penchant for writing numbers and codes, codes that were all dead-ended but the potential was there, kinetic energy that hit a wall. 

Teachers would whisper, unaware that although he could not speak, that he was still capable of listening.

“Awful smart, isn’t he? A shame he can’t speak.”

“Have you seen that brother of his? No wonder money is so hard to come by for them, he’s.. Odd.”

It frustrated Dirk more than his typically blank stare could translate, it frustrated him that he was empty of words now, that even though he was full of them, he swears, he’s full of them. 

When Dave picked him up that day, his hands were shaking worse than usual, and Dirk thought he was going to crash the car.

It would have been poetic. 

They arrive home safely however, after Dave stops at the store to buy food with money that made Dave look at in barely disguised disgust. 

Dirk didn’t ask, he could have, he could have tapped the money twice and Dave would have avoided the question, sure, but he would have asked.

If Dave didn’t look so disgusted. 

  
  


Roxy Lalonde was a pretty girl with dark skin and curly blond hair, almost unruly curls that fell down her shoulders in rivulets, her eyes were golden like warmed honey. 

She sat across from him during lunch and gave him her apple slices.

He pushed them back but she was stubborn, and she pushed them back.

“It’s okay, my moms gave me extra.”

Her words were final, and Dirk just nodded and sat them aside, writing more broken code. 

Roxy stared down at the paper before reaching over and tapping it.

“Try a three.”

Dirk stared up at her and blinked before erasing and rewriting it, switching out the nine for a three.

It worked.

Dirk supposes that she can stay. 

That night, after Dave got home, there was a little baggie of apple slices tucked into the fridge with “Bro” written on it.

Dave fought the urge to cry.

  
  


Roxy pushed herself into Dirk’s routine, too smart for a five year old, just like Dirk, too smart.

One day, when Dave was off, Dirk brought a piece of parchment paper home.

He took his shades off to read it, and then he reread to make sure he’d read it correctly.

It was an invitation to a playdate from a woman named Rose Lalonde-Maryam, inviting both he and Dirk over.

She was a few years his senior, maybe only three, she addressed this.

“Very young parent, and you have such a smart and polite son.”

It brought a dull ache to his chest when people referred to Dirk as his son. 

Because with some careful consideration, he guesses that yeah, he is his son. 

A son given to him with fire and blood, but a son, nonetheless, his baby. 

“We can go, Dirk, I’ll take you.”

It wasn’t as if he had a job to reschedule, and bills would be due soon, it seemed like no matter how much he paid, there was always more.

He needed to take Dirk to the doctor, but could he afford it? 

He didn’t have health care, neither of them did, and he hasn’t heard from CPS in over a year, he guesses that he’s lucky in that aspect, because what would he do if they were knocking on the door as well, trying to take his son?

Little blessings, little blessings. 

  
  


“Come on, up and at ‘em. In the shower we go.” 

Dave lifted Dirk up in his arms as he turned on the water, letting it rain down and get warm, pipes shaking and making their displeasure heard as he undressed Dirk and then himself.

Sharing the shower with Dirk was a bit odd but not unlike when he bathed him when he was younger. Dirk got bathed first and then wrapped in a towel that made him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

Dave assumed it was his sensory issues, maybe it felt too itchy against his skin.

He quickly finished after, no use in wasting time and water, besides that it got cold far too quickly.

Dave wrapped a towel around his waist.

“Come on, let’s get dressed.”

Thrift store clothes often got a bad rep, Dave mused as he dressed Dirk, all his clothes fit perfectly fine though and they were so much more cheap than had he bought them at a clothing store.

Finishing it off, he pressed a kiss to Dirk’s forehead before sitting him down on his bed.

The dresser was for Dirk’s clothes but the closet is where Dave kept his things since he slept out in the living room. 

Dirk was always polite and looked away when Dave was getting dressed. 

“Ready?”

A nod, a blink, “yes, I’m ready.” 

  
  


Rose Lalonde-Maryam was an intimidating woman at only about five foot two inches tall, that was Dave’s first thought when he saw her. 

They shook hands and her grip was firm, the 18 year old found himself almost swooning. Her wife left him feeling similarly breathless, she was tall with a deep voice and a musical laugh, dark hair cut into a stylized fade, the opposite of her wife’s curled and white bobbed hair.

“Mr. Strider, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Roxy has told us so much about your son.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Lalonde-Maryam, but please, just call me Dave and Dirk’s just my little bro.” He stepped aside slightly and Rose smiled to herself when she saw the small boy clenching Dave’s leg. 

“Well, come on in, Roxy’s been talking about this since she woke up.”

Dave was in awe at the house, while average sized, it felt.. lived in, warm. It wasn’t like the apartment that Dave dreaded coming home to, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

He knew it was irrational, but he felt like he was walking to his death. He almost felt unwelcome in this comfortable and clearly-loved home.

“Come, come, no need to take your shoes off or anything, it’s hardwood.”

Dave followed behind them, led to the living room and sat on the couch with a smile towards his two guests, Dirk climbing up beside him silently.

The pitter-patter of tiny feet alerted them to the presence of another and there was Roxy, smiling widely.

“Hi Dirk! Hi Mr. Strider!”

A feeling of pure relief swept through Dave when Dirk smiled back, slipping from the couch and walking over to Roxy. The adults stayed quiet as they greeted each other.

Dirk held his hands out and Roxy grabbed them, squeezing his hands once before pulling him into a hug and then dragging him out of the living room, loudly telling him about the “really cool toys” she wanted to show him. 

“Would you like a drink?”

Dave smiled and waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head. “Nah, there’s no need. It’s a pleasure to meet y’all though.”

They could hear Roxy’s laughter, Dirk was silent as he always was but they seemed to understand each other perfectly, and Dave was thankful for that. He knew that Dirk was ostracized among his classmates and even some of his teachers for his disability, but at least Roxy was there.

“Pardon me, if I’m overstepping,” Rose began, drawing Dave’s attention back to her. “But does Dirk speak?”

Dave has never had someone ask so bluntly. Curious, maybe, but straight to the point.

He can respect that.

“No,” It hurt a little to say knowing there was time when he did, “he’s mute, as you saw though he communicates pretty damn well.”

Rose smiled and shook her head. “I wish you could have seen Roxy the first day Dirk ever interacted with her, she was positively ecstatic talking about the boy with the orange eyes.”

Kanaya nodded her head, smiling merrily. “She came running in after Rose picked her to tell me about this boy who was smarter than anyone she’d ever met.”

And Dave was right about that familial warmth, because the more they talked, the more he felt it too.

  
  


Dirk hadn’t wanted to leave, so Rose and Kanaya gave Dave their numbers, and Roxy gave Dirk a big hug.

They wanted to plan more play dates for them and Dave felt pride glow in his chest, his boy was making friends.

The car ride home was silent, but it was a welcomed one. Dave felt oddly relaxed, like for a moment, his guard was down and that was okay. Dirk was falling asleep, he could see his little head resting on the seatbelt, eyes pressed closed.

He quickly looked back at the road again.

The closer they got to the apartment, the more dread filled him. The more he thought about his barely-full wallet and the empty fridge, about how the water got cold too fast and how that the front door didn’t always latch correctly.

It didn’t lock correctly at the worst of times and Dirk was often home alone because he was too worried and scared to ask anyone to check in on Dirk. Besides that, it wasn’t as if he had the money to pay a babysitter. 

He thought about how he’s only eighteen, raising a child when he was still a child himself. 

If he was a lesser man, an evil man, he would crash the car and end their misery. He’d put all the blame on Dirk but he wasn’t.

He couldn’t.

Dirk was a victim of a tragedy, he deserved the best, he deserved to be able to do better, so that’s what Dave would do.

He’s going to do his fucking best for him, he’s going to cry every night if he has to, he’ll sell himself, just to put a single meal on the table.

Because if there’s such a thing as loving something too much, then he loves Dirk astronomical amounts.

They made it home in one piece and Dave carried Dirk inside, shushing him softly when he stirred. He took his shoes and pants off and tucked him, kissed him on the temple, soothing and repeated words leaving his mouth. 

Closing the bedroom door softly behind himself, he sat down at the kitchen table and unlocked his phone. It was nothing too fancy, an old iPhone that got the job done, and he once again started on the search for jobs, he had to find something.

Or maybe he’d come home again with money that made him sick to look at, but money, nonetheless.

Maybe he’d write a little more, a small pastime that would gain no traction, he used to want to be a movie director before his parents died.

He sent out resume after resume, application after application and hoped for something, for even a hint of interest to be casted his way.

He didn’t have a job, Dirk needed food, bills needed to be paid and he didn’t have a goddamn job. 

It wasn’t that late, only nine, and Dirk had eaten at Roxy’s, he was all tired out.

Dirty money is still money.

And the fridge is empty. 

  
  


They went grocery shopping when Dirk woke up the next day, it was Save-A-Lot and it was cheap enough for a single parent who wasn’t on government assistance because he “made too much” when in reality, he didn’t make enough.

He didn’t make anything at all.

Dirk has slept like the dead and Dave had checked on him more than once to make sure he was breathing after taking a cold shower and then staying up.

Counting the money in his hands over and over again.

One thousand dollars.

Not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but Dirk would have a full fridge, mixed vegetables and ramen galore because they lasted the longest. Milk, one percent, because it was basically water and therefore, it was the cheapest.

Cereal because it was an easy breakfast for his five year old to make if he wasn’t home.

Only the essentials, maybe a snack or two, he couldn’t spend too much. There were still bills that would need paying.

None of the other jobs have gotten back and it’s barely been a whole day but Dave doesn’t think he’ll last long off of money he hates.

He doesn’t want it to last long.

  
  


Starbucks is almost perfect for a single parent and always hiring, literally, so when Dave is sent an email back, he jumps on the opportunity. He goes in at twelve in the afternoon and gets off at seven, not too terrible of hours, but now Dirk has to walk home and Dave wants to call it quits before he’s even started.

He gets Dirk a tiny track phone with minutes, it’s for emergencies only, and a whistle to go on the side of his backpack because the neighborhood they live in isn’t dangerous but it is a school zone and Dirk is only five and Dave feels like he wasn’t even that self reliant at such a young age.

It works though, it’s good money, it works. The money is enough to pay his bills, but sometimes, it feels like it isn’t.

Lights stay turned off when they aren’t being used, air is free because it’s Texas and it’s hotter than Hell about ninety-five percent of the time.

He thinks they’re doing good, at least, they’re trying.

  
  


Dirk’s birthday is coming up in a week, and he doesn’t know what to do. A Starbucks check wasn't made to cover a newly turned six year old’s birthday party, and there were gifts to consider.

He could bake a cake, box cakes weren't terribly expensive and he could invite the Lalonde-Maryams over but that left gifts as his last thought.

He could buy him that Rainbow Dash plush that he eyed the other day at the store. One gift was a little bad, maybe two? Maybe he could buy him something else, maybe some shades for his eyes?

They were just as sensitive as his eyes were, that would be helpful. 

He could do that, it would work.

It has to.

  
  


“Hey, Rose! Just wanted to know if you and your fam would like to come over for Dirk’s birthday, I’m sure he’d be real happy to see li’l Roxy and we’ll just make a day of it. Call me back when you get this, thanks.”

He sent the voicemail and got ready for work, glad it was a weekend and Dirk could be left at home, the risk of kidnapping less now that he wouldn’t be going outside of the house.

“Come here, Dirk, I’m about to leave!”

A few seconds of silence before his brother’s head popped around the corner and Dirk walked over.

“Later, l’il man. I’ll be back at what time?”

Dirk held up seven fingers.

“Right on.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead and then he was out the door.

  
  


Dirk watched quietly as his brother left, hearing the door lock and then his retreating footsteps, he was all alone now and while he was typically always alone, it felt emptier now that he was familiar with the presence of someone who wasn’t just his big brother.

He hated being alone, he absolutely hated it.

Being alone was enough to drag up bad thoughts, he thought about their parents, he thinks about how scared Dave looks when he drives sometimes.

Bad, bad thoughts with no filter.

He wants Dave back, and he hates not being solely dependent upon himself, but Dave is his safe place, he’s all that Dirk even has.

He has seven hours, and it’s a lucky number, he thinks he’ll write some code.

  
  


“Happy birthday!” It was only a little overwhelming, all the noise and singing but Dirk was smiling, there was glee in his eyes. 

Rose and Kanaya had brought gifts as well, and it made Dave feel oddly guilty but he could tell that they didn’t mind it, and that they were more than happy to do so.

The cake was too sweet, Dave had put too much icing but Dirk thought it was perfect. It was a small party, only the five of them but it wasn’t the amount of people that made it so worthwhile.

It was the lack of sadness in Dave’s eyes, it was Roxy’s laugh, it was the sweet smiles given out freely by Rose and Kanaya.

  
  


Dirk fell asleep on the futon after the party, holding his stuffed rainbow dash toy in his hands and cuddling it close to his chest.

“Thanks so much for coming over, I know Dirk really appreciates it and I did too.” Kanaya just shakes her head, holding their very tired daughter in her arms.

“No need to thank us, we’re glad you invited us. The kids had fun today and that’s what matters.”

She could see the familiar tiredness in his eyes, the weight of the world that seems to be carried on weak shoulders.

“You’re doing good by him, you know? It might not feel like it now, maybe never, but you’re doing damn good.”

Dave wanted to believe it, god, he wanted to believe it so badly but when he thought about their tiny apartment and the door that didn’t properly lock, he felt like he could never do enough.

  
  



	3. Silver Linings

“Come on, Dirk, bath time.” The bags under Dave’s eyes are darker than usual, but that isn’t enough to stop Dirk from firmly shaking his head,  _ no. _

“What? Come here, Dirk, it’s almost bedtime too.” He went to grab at Dirk but the boy ran around him and into the living room. 

Dave tried to stamp down the irritation that flared in his chest, it was going to be one of  _ those  _ days. 

“Dirk! Come here right now.” Even if he didn’t speak, that didn’t stop Dave from practically hearing the implied “no” in the silence and absence of his brother’s presence.

“Damnit Dirk!” Dave made his way into the living room, grabbing Dirk from futon. It was immediate, the squirming and the loud whimpering that typically tore at Dave’s heart only seemed to fuel his irritation.

He fought him the whole time he was carried into the bathroom. 

“Shut up, just-just get in the fucking shower.” He sat Dirk down, ignoring the way he avoided his eyes, turning the water in the shower on.

Dave didn’t undress himself, only Dirk and pulled him to the water.

“Get in.”

Another shake of Dirk’s head.

“Dirk,” Dave gritted out, eyebrow twitching as he forced himself to speak slowly. “Get in the goddamn shower.”

_ No.  _

“Fucking-!” Dave pulled the other into the shower, one hand secured at the back of his head while the other held his wrist.

“Stay still.” Dirk went still, shaking slightly under the water as Dave washed him up. The older sibling’s breath was shuddering a little.

“Come on, out.”

Dave dried Dirk off and wrapped the towel around him, lifting him up into his arms as he carried him into the bedroom and placed him on the bed.

“Stay.” He turned away and dug through the drawers for some clothes. Dirk was still sitting where he’d been left when Dave turned around, which he was glad for.

“Let’s get dressed.” Dirk shook his head again, gripping at the towels he usually disliked tighter around himself.

“Dirk, buddy, let’s not do this again, alright? Let me get you dressed for bed.”

Dirk shook his head and Dave sighed, walking over and forcing the towel off, holding Dirk’s arms down when he pushed and fought at him. 

He was sure if he’d had a voice, he’d be screaming.

“Dirk, calm down, just let me dress-“ Dirk’s flailing hands hit him around the eyes and Dave caught himself before he hit the other back instinctively, eyes tearing up as he gripped both of the boy’s wrist.

“Stop it! Stay fucking still! Can you do this one thing, huh? Can you just do this one thing for me?” He shook the other a little, eyes glossed over and already turning red.

Dirk fell limp and Dave dressed him, barely finishing up the last button on his shirt before he was crumbling in on himself.

“Fuck.. Fuck.. I’m so sorry, Dirk, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that to you..” He pulled him into a hug, shaking as he rocked him from side to side.

“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.” Dirk didn’t react for a few moments, and then Dave broke a little further when he felt the other gently running a hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

  
  


Dave was tired day in and day out, he’d successfully gotten a second job again, paired with the  _ other  _ one (three jobs, he’s working three goddamn jobs because it never feels like enough), the one that made him sick to his stomach.

It wasn’t bad work, no, but it was immediately demonized in his eyes when he wanted  _ nothing  _ that happened, he didn’t want it. 

But no one had ever cared about his wants before, why was now any different?

He had money now, he could feed Dirk, he could feed  _ himself. _

They haven’t really eaten in over a year, hadn’t eaten to the point of being full and tired, and even with this money, they still had to be frugal. That paired with the additional two jobs often left him too tired for most things.

No more surprise play dates, his schedule was full, no more hurting Dirk, he bathed himself now.

The memory still brought sick guilt to the forefront of his mind. Dirk was an autistic child, he  _ knew  _ that, he  _ knows  _ how he’s supposed to take care of him. 

Granted, the internet isn’t better than a trained professional, but even then, he’s been taking care of Dirk since he was a baby, he  _ knows  _ how to take care of him.. Right?

He hopes that Dirk forgives him even though he doesn’t deserve it. 

Dave sighed and pushed his hair back.

He needs to go to work. 

  
  


Dirk is still awake when Dave stumbles in, too late for him to still be awake on a school night. 

“Hey, baby, why are you still awake? You have school tomorrow.”

Dirk didn’t say anything, per usual, as he got up and walked into the kitchen, tapping the little whiteboard that was on the fridge.

Dave took his shades off and read over Dirk’s scratchy writing.

“A teacher training day, huh, bud? Okay. You can stay up until twelve but it’s bedtime after that, okay? And turn the TV off when you’re done.”

Dave checked the two unanswered messages on his phone. 

**TT: Hello, Dave, it’s Rose.**

**TT: Kanaya and I were wondering if you and Dirk would be interested in another play date, we’ve been looking forward to seeing you two again.**

He breathed a harsh sigh through his nose and considered. What was holding them back from going anyway?

Fear? Dave knew that was the answer, he was scared to get close, he feared that by getting close, he’d hurt them all when he inevitably failed or.. they all found out.

It wasn’t the job that worried him, it was the pain.

It was the pain of thinking about how much he’d hurt himself just so Dirk didn’t suffer anymore than he had to. 

**TG: ofc Rose, I know dirk would really like that and I’d like to see y’all too**

**TG: will tomorrow afternoon work?**

**TT: Tomorrow afternoon sounds wonderful, thank you, Dave.**

**TT: We’ll be looking forward to seeing you.**

  
  


Dave closes out the chat and rests his head in his hands again.

He hears the TV shut off in the living room and he watches from their open dining room-slash-kitchen as Dirk patters in.

He points at the microwave above the stove and Dave glances at it.

“Bedtime, huh? Okay. Bedtime.” He scoops Dirk up and he puts him to bed, he presses a kiss to his temple and pets his hair until he falls asleep.

Then Dave finally drags himself into the shower and then to the futon.

It’s still slightly warm from where Dirk had been.

Dirk was his little bit of light, his warmth, and he was scared that he’d snuff that out. He makes a promise to himself in the dark that he’ll never hurt Dirk like that again. 

  
  


“Dirk!” Roxy called, chattering excitedly as she guided Dirk back to her room.

“Dave, we’ve missed you.” Kanaya pulled him into a hug and she smelled good, sweet, Dave felt like he’d dirty her.

Rose hugged him next.

“It’s so good to see you again.”

Dave laughed softly as they all sat down, he felt a bit more comfortable than he did the first time.

“Sorry we haven’t been able to come over more, I’ve been so busy with work and-“

“Hey,” Kanaya smiled warmly at him and shook her head a little. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.”

Dave nods and he tries to smile back, he really does but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

He doesn’t want to cry in their living room after meeting for the second time.

“Dave!” Roxy calls, coming running down the stairs. Her eyes are wide, and she looks scared.

Dave goes cold.

“What’s wrong, where’s Dirk?”

“I-I don’t know- he started shaking and-“

“Fuck, fuck-“

Dave’s up the stairs before he can even realize it, he can’t think, he’s not thinking.

Dirk is deathly still when he finds Roxy’s room, it’s pink and covered in cats, but that doesn’t matter, he’s focused on his brother, he’s so scared he’s lost him.

He turns him on his side and there’s vomit running out his mouth, but he’s breathing, harsh breaths, he’s making a mess of Roxy’s plush pink floor.

“We called the ambulance, they’ll be here soon..”

The words were fading fast, he could barely hear the sirens in the distance.

He couldn’t lose Dirk, then he’d lose himself. 

  
  


“One out of every four children that have autism also have seizures as they are a comorbid disorder, Mr. Strider.”

“Will he have them often?”

“It’s too early to tell but if you bring him to more specialized doctors, he can get the proper care he needs.”

Dave nods and smiles and the doctor walks away, he’s left staring down at his brother. He’s asleep, but he needs an MRI to check his brain, to make sure it’s not a tumor.

He looks so small hooked up to all those machines, even smaller than usual. (The thought of how he will pay for all of this is a far-off one, drowned by Dave’s worry).

The possibility of cancer scares Dave more than anything.

He sinks into the hard plastic chair beside Dirk’s bed and rests his head in his hands, he’s trying not to cry.

There’s a soft knock on the door and then Kanaya’s voice.

“We brought you something to eat, we’ll be here a while.”

Dave wipes his eyes and turns towards her, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s okay. You guys, you don’t have to stay. I bet Roxy’s tired.”

Kanaya smiled, but it’s sad, and she lays a hand on Dave’s shoulder. 

“You don’t have to do this alone. Rose and I are here for you.”

That’s all it takes for the floodgates to open, and Dave’s covering his mouth to soften his cries, he doesn’t want to wake Dirk.

“I’m so scared, it could be  _ cancer,  _ he could-he could have cancer, God.” Daves pushes his shades up, blinking quickly to clear his blurry vision but it’s only making it worse.

“Do you think..?”

Dave shrugs, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s cancer, god, that’s such a heavy word, huh? Such a- such a heavy fucking word.”

He sinks down into the chair again and he cries with Kanaya at his side. Even with the situation weighing heavy on his shoulders, it feels nice to have someone in the same room with him while he sobs into his hands.

Dirk’s heart monitor stays steady.

It’s his silver lining. 


	4. a little piece of good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is shown a kinder side of humanity, and for once, ever since he started raising Dirk on his own, he has faith in them.

Dave can take Dirk home after the doctors run some more tests, unable to determine if Dirk would have any more seizures or if it was one off.

They suggested medication, as a failsafe, and Dave could see the subtle realization in Dirk’s eyes.

Dave remembered a similar feeling when he was around Dirk’s age, when he was once again brought to the hospital for bruising so easy all over his hands and legs.

The feeling of being a  _ burden.  _

Dave wraps an arm around Dirk’s shoulder, trying to say with no words that he’d never been a burden, not in Dave’s eyes. He pulls him into a side hug and nods along to the doctor’s words, feeling surprisingly numbed as he accepted papers and signed Dirk out.

He carried him to the car, thanked the Lalonde-Maryams for staying with them and drove them home in silence.

Dave held Dirk’s hand and they walked up the stairs slowly, the elevator didn’t work often, and when it did work it was shaky and unstable feeling.

Dirk tugged at Dave’s pants when they reached the apartment door.

“Yes, little man?”

Dirk shook his head and Dave frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

Dirk hummed loudly and shook his head.

Dave picked Dirk up, noting how light he was, feeling guilt stirring and eating away that numbness that had washed over him.

“Yes, Dirk?”

Dirk shook his head again and motioned to the door and Dave glanced at the door for a moment before he swallowed slowly.

“You don’t want to go in?”

Dirk shook his head no, and Dave felt the guilt come crashing in waves.

He should have known that if he hated it, that Dirk would too.

“Cal is in there, we can’t just leave him alone.” Dave tried and Dirk fixed him with a look that Dave just raised his eyebrows at.

“We have to.” He pressed a kiss to Dirk’s forehead.

His skin was still slightly sticky from the electrode pads. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not forever.”

Dirk rested his head against Dave’s chest in defeat as he finally entered the apartment, noting that he never checked the mail.

Not that it mattered, there were probably just more bills demanding to be paid. 

He puts Dirk to bed early, thankful that Rose had bought Dirk and Roxy food at the hospital as he picks at whatever can be found in the refrigerator.

He supposes that he has to go to work.

  
  
  


It’s some fancy Hollywood party, full of comedians and actors, all of them dying for a feel of Dave’s skin.

Well,  _ almost. _

There’s a man who Dave’s been following with eyes ever since he came in, some bastard who looks like a trust fund baby with the bluest eyes and he’s ever seen and cutely uneven teeth, just a slightly tilted canine. 

It’s what drew Dave in, that little  _ “imperfection”,  _ that stood out against perfectly straight and white smiles.

He’s got hair that looks like it was wind blown, wispy and fine-looking at a distance. 

He’s wearing a deep blue suit and he smiles and you can see his gums just slightly, he is so  _ real  _ in this crowd.

Some two-bit act feels his hand down Dave’s thigh, and for the first time that evening, Dave allows his discomfort to show.

He’s seen realness, he doesn’t want to linger in this sleazy pit of self-depreciation anymore.

He thinks, in another life, sex work would have suited him better, he’s brushed shoulders with many who speak about their job with a smile, who are happy, but he is not.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Dave grits out, tries to push the man away but is instead grabbed by his wrist and dragged closer.

“But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“I said don’t touch me, get off-!” He raises his voice and the music isn’t loud enough that he can’t be heard and everyone who wanted a feel of his skin is now pretending that they don't hear him. 

They scuffle and he’s pinned to the couch, his shades go sliding off.

And not for the first time, he’s scared something terrible will happen to him, and everyone is pretending they don’t see it. 

Well, almost everyone.

“Hey! He said don’t touch him.” Dave feels relief wash over him when the man is pulled off and away, only to stop short at the sight of the man, with those blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks, inspecting him without touching and Dave just nods.

“Do you want to go home?”

Dave nods again and he holds his arm out and Dave practically latches on, snatching his shades up and sliding them back on.

The man nods at the security guard on the way out, and he’s handed a black fedora.

He puts it on and only then can Dave tell that he’s somewhat older than him, maybe five years or so, but he feels so young, in some intangible way.

“I’ll call a cab.” He offers. “Or do you have a ride?”

“I have a car.”

“I’ll walk you.”

They walk in silence, and Dave feels unfairly safe in this stranger’s presence. It almost scares him how much of a calming effect he has, but Dave’s good at hiding his emotions, so it’s no big deal.

They stop outside of Dave’s car and the man looks him over again, as if checking to see if Dave had suddenly gotten injured on the short walk to his car.

“Thank you.” The man smiles, and it’s contagious because Dave finds himself smiling back.

“Sorry if this is overstepping my bounds, but may if I give you my number? Just to make sure you get home alright?” He offers, and Dave tilts his head.

“I don’t know your name.”

“It’s James, James Egbert.”

“Dave Strider.”

Dave hands his phone over and the man types before his own phone pings in his pocket.

“I might not text you again after tonight.” Dave warns and James laughs softly.

“Take your time, you look like you need it.” It’s not condescending or teasing, if anything, it feels like a reassurance.

Dave pats his arm.

“Good bye, James.”

“I think we should say  _ see you later  _ instead.” He replies, not confident or flirty, but sure in a way that puzzles Dave.

“How long is ‘later’?”

“Could be months, or years. I think we both need to grow a little.”

Dave chuckles softly, a ghost of a sound, because he’s a little amazed by this whole conversation, the certainty of it.

“See you later, James.”

“See you later, Dave.”

  
  


Dave drives home and for once, the thought of crashing his car is far away. 

He needs to make it home to check on Dirk, he needs to update Rose and Kanaya on how Dirk’s doing, on if he’s okay in the morning, he.. needs to text James to let him know he’s alright.

For once, he doesn’t feel so alone.

Strange.

  
  


The door had properly locked itself, and Dave quietly entered and shut the door behind himself softly. He didn’t want to accidentally wake Dirk.

He opened up his most recent message and he paused seeing the message that James had sent himself.

_ “It’ll be okay, Dave.” _

That shouldn’t have been enough to make him tear up, to make his vision blurry, but it was.

It was.

**TG: I made it home all in one piece, you can sleep easy tonight**

**PF: I’m glad to hear it! My rest is safely secured, have a good night Dave.**

Dave hesitates briefly before typing out his next response.

**TG: See you later, James**

He can almost picture that endeared smile he’d given him now directed at his phone screen.

**PF: See you later, Dave.**

  
  


Dave never goes back to that club, or any other clubs for that matter, he just goes to Starbucks and his other part time job at a little convenience store, and for once, it’s enough. 

He’s not satisfied, he won’t be satisfied until Dirk can eat until he can’t anymore and Dirk can go to college and be whatever the hell he wants to be.

It won’t be enough until Dave’s mind has been put at ease.

He has a lot of time working at the convenience store, he’s had a rash of night shifts ever since he stopped his  _ other other  _ job, and he spends it scribbling stories into the little notebook he usually writes grocery lists in.

They are abstract and layered with irony, and as he writes a scene about a character falling down the stairs, he can feel the past bruises of when he was just Dirk’s age flare up on his skin.

He was so easy to bruise, and he remembers the look his parents had when they found this out, and when they proceeded to use that against him.

He writes out the whole scene as a joke, an ironic joke about falling the stairs after being relentlessly warned against it.

He thinks he’ll call these characters Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. 

He smiles softly to himself at the little world he’s created.

  
  


Money comes in slow trickles, but Dave finds himself no longer withdrawing from the kindness that surrounds him, as he once did out of fear for himself and Dirk, he guesses it's okay to let someone in every now and then.

He smiles more and so does Dirk, and one day, he’s given the best gift he can ask for.

Dave never celebrated his birthday, didn’t feel the need to when he was more focused on Dirk than himself. 

(It was a special, sweet brand of irony that landed Dirk being born on his birthday).

They were sitting on the couch, watching some show about how to build robots and other electronics that Dirk was extremely fond of when he..

“Bro?” Soft, shy and broken, but a  _ word. _

Dave is too shocked to speak for a moment, just stares at Dirk with wide, red eyes as he mentally replays it over and over and he hasn’t heard Dirk’s voice is two years, it’s just as soft and small-

Dave pulls him into a hug, tight and rocks him from side to side. 

“Holy shit, oh god, okay, okay-“ Dave presses a kiss to the side of Dirk’s cheek, laughs softly as he curls around him.

His laughter turns into a soft sob, he cries so much nowadays, but these tears—

“You’re.. Crying.. ‘cause of me?”

“Happy tears, I’m so happy. Shh, shh, don’t force yourself, take your time.”

Dave holds him the rest of the night, and they fall asleep with the TV on.

  
  


Dirk is given a speech tutor by the school, completely free so Dave doesn’t have to worry about that. 

His wild stories grow and grow, his mind is high on an unexpected boost of  _ good  _ that he can’t really pinpoint, but suddenly, things don’t seem so bleak anymore.

Dave wants to be a movie director again. 

He didn’t think that dream would ever spark a light in his heart again, he felt like he’d always think about it with a heavy heart, but this good feeling he’s riding on makes him feel like he can accomplish damn near anything.

It’ll be hard, he knows this, but he knows that they’ll get there, he and Dirk, taking Hollywood and eventually, the whole  _ goddamn world,  _ by storm.

That’s just the Strider style, he decides, going all or nothing, creating worlds out of thin air and grocery lists, hiding trauma and pleas for help between irony and strange but interesting speech patterns.

He knows that Dirk surely will, he’s seen his codes, the way he twiddles with broken things, putting them back in a way that seems better than the first. 

Dirk is going to change the fucking world. 


	5. snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk meets a boy with vivid green eyes, Dave finds a new reason to worry for his baby brother.

“Wow, first day of middle school, huh?” Dave sighed in reverence, smiling down at Dirk who was pulling at the button up shirt he had to wear with the uniform.

“Don’t.. like it.” He mumbled and Dave smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Is Rose picking me up?”

“Yep, because I,” he tapped Dirk on the nose. “Have work.”

“You always have work, Bro.” There was a small whine in Dirk’s voice, which was only a little out of place as he wasn’t a child that ever whined before, but it was clear that he was more so expressing his discomfort with coming back to an empty apartment.

“I know, little man, but look on the bright side- I have a meeting with that directing company later.”

“Don’t you need a Bachelor’s degree for that?” Dirk replied and Dave huffed a laugh, patting Dirk on the shoulder. 

“I have a Bachelor’s Degree.”

Dirk gave him a confused look and Dave frowned, brow furrowing as he looked his brother over. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten that Dave went to online school a couple of months before he started elementary school, right?

“Come on.. Let’s get you to school, don’t want to be late on your first day.”

The drive is quiet, and Dirk is staring out the window blankly, bright eyes taking in the flashes of green, blue and the bruised purple of the early morning sky. 

Dave frowned a little as he pulled up the school, seeing the flood of children mingling, some already forming groups to talk, others sitting alone or playing.

“Have a good day, Dirk.”

“I will, Bro.”

He didn’t remember how Dave had hugged him and kissed him on the cheek when he had gotten his degree in the mail, how he’d actually laughed a little.

“I love you.”

Maybe there was something in his voice that revealed his emotion, but Dirk mistook it for his typical First Day of School stress, and responded in kind.

“I love you too, Bro. It’ll be a good day.”

He climbed out of the car, his Bro hadn't even pulled off yet before Dirk had an armful of Roxy, her eyes betraying her excitement and nerves, bouncing up and down.

“DiStri! Are you excited? Our first day of middle school- it’s like a friggin’ YA novel or something!” Roxy exclaimed, and Dirk huffed through his nose but Roxy knew it was just a general noise of amusement on her friend’s part.

“YA novels? Does that make us the Mary Sue protagonists with a hopeless love interest?” He asks, and like some ironic twist of fate and how Dirk  _ detests  _ irony, he hears someone shuffle up to them.

“Oh, uh, pardon me?” He turns and stops in his tracks, suddenly caught up in green eyes and jet black hair. 

“I hope I’m not intruding but I was wondering-“

“Whatever it is, we can help.” Roxy interrupted and the boy smiled, he had a cute overbite and he was biting lightly into his bottom lip.

His skin was dark, darker than Roxy’s by a shade and his bright green eyes stood out against his dark lashes.

Dirk’s never had a crush before, he’s never found someone  _ attractive  _ before, but something about  _ this boy _ ..

“Do you know where the main office is?”

“Yeah, we’ll show you!”

Dirk didn’t say anything, too busy focusing on willing the flush from his cheeks, listening to Roxy as she talked to the boy. 

He has an accent that Dirk has never heard before, and he walks with confidence, even though he’s unsure of himself and allowing Roxy to lead the way.

He tunes back into the conversation when he hears his name.

“And that’s Dirk, don’t look so worried that he’s not talking, he doesn’t speak sometimes.”

“O-oh, okay. I should introduce myself as well, I’m Jake English.” He smiles and Dirk’s heart melts in his chest. 

_ Jake English, huh? _

Just like some YA novel, he’ll never forgive Roxy for the breathtaking curse of love at first sight, even though he never truly believed in such a thing.

He’ll never forgive himself for trying to force himself to believe it was real. 

* * *

  
“ _Repressed memories?”_ Dave asked Rose on the phone, glad that he was on a break as he took a drag of his cigarette. “I thought that only happened with bad memories?”

_ “Typically, yes, but if he was under stress at the time, coupled with a possibly traumatic event, he may have just repressed  _ everything  _ in an attempt to protect himself.” _

“Traumatic..?” Dave felt himself go cold, what could have possibly happened? Had something happened at school that Dirk just hadn’t told him about, and now he  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t be telling him about it if he didn’t even remember it.

_ “Don’t blame yourself, Dave, eventually the memories will resurface, usually with the help of therapy, the passage of time- or even an unexpected trigger, so try and keep an eye on that.”  _ She warns and Dave nods before remembering that she can’t see him.

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks Rose. Tell Kanaya I said hello.”

_ “Don’t worry, I will. And make sure to get Dirk a heavy coat! Winter is coming up.” _

Dave looks at the sky.

“Yeah. Later.”

_ “See you later.” _

He hung up the phone, and shivered in the breeze despite the beaming heat, the weather would start to cool in the coming weeks.

Winters were always hardest for him and Dirk, but if he could just get a  _ call back,  _ he thinks he can do it.

He can give Dirk everything he deserves, he can give himself everything that was stolen from him. 

Dave pauses and shakes his head as if physically clearing his head of the building thoughts of fancy. He needs to take it a day at a time, and soon, they’ll be there.

  
  


Jake has a rambunctious laugh, he’s boisterous but polite, Dirk has never liked loud noises but Jake, much like Roxy, doesn’t bother him too much. 

They’re at lunch, glad that they share the hour together as they sit, Dirk scribbling code that he won’t even show Roxy, and Jake is talking about the island that he lived on with his grandmother.

“What’re writing, if you don’t mind my asking?” Jake asked and Dirk paused, looking up at him and then back down to the paper.

“It’s code for a project I’m working on. Or rather, trying to work on. It’s all hypotheticals right now.” Jake’s eyebrows raised a bit and he nodded.

“Okay.” The conversation ended there and Dirk felt odd- he could not place the feeling.

Jake and Roxy started talking again, but it never did go away.

  
  


With the weeks passing, it grew colder and Dave steadily bundled up his little brother more and more. 

“You know the weather isn’t good with your albinism.” Dave explained, as he does every year, but the dark circles are already coming back under his eyes.

“It’s going to snow soon.”

Dave glances at the window in the living room and nodded, sighing softly.

“Maybe.”

* * *

  
Most people don’t know it snows in Texas. It’s not a rare occurrence, surrounded by mumbling and excitement, sometimes seen with annoyance— some cities shuts down from it, practically, but it does snow.

At least once every few years, depending on where you live. 

Dirk had indeed predicted the snow, after having told Dave rather bluntly about it. 

The air was strange, Jake was acting even stranger, it didn’t snow on that little island he lived on. The island, much like its lone inhabitants, remained sunny and smiling and dangerous. 

At least, Dirk says he’s dangerous, for reasons that Dave does not know and often worries about at night. 

So, it snowed.

And Dirk thinks that Jake isn’t anything like the snow. 

He isn’t cold and brash, he is beautiful, but he is not like the snow, he’s sunshine, he’s a rainstorm in August, but he is  _ not snow. _

Dirk sometimes wishes that he wasn’t either. 

He knows that he is cold and often seen as calculating, comparable to the winter.

He doesn’t mean to be, he truly doesn’t, and he wishes more people would see that. 

His crush grew with the season and he knew that Roxy must have known for a while, but this is the first time that she’s commented on it.

“You look love struck, DiStri.” She said as she sat down next to him at lunch, Jake wasn’t there that day so they were alone.

“Love struck? That doesn’t exist.” He said plainly and Roxy smiled, in a way that he wasn’t used to. It seemed almost.. sad.

“I’ll never understand how you live like that. So.. closed off.”

“Closed off? I have you.. and Jake.”

“I  _ know,  _ but I mean that you’re closed off from.. romance. Don’t you ever think about dating from time to time?”

Dirk shrugged, scratching out an invalid code to write another.

“Not really. I mean, there’s Jake but he..”  _ He’s dangerous,  _ Dirk thinks to himself,  _ the way he makes me feel scares me.. so it must be dangerous. _

It’s a nonsensical thought, it doesn’t make any sense but some part of him knows that maybe  _ boys  _ shouldn’t find  **_other_ ** boys attractive.

He’s no stranger to slurs and he watches the news- but it never quite fit together until now.

A boy who loves another boy.. is a dead boy.

“I think you should give it a try!” Roxy says with a wide smile, her eyes gleaming with a more familiar glee, it snaps Dirk out of his morbid thoughts and he scoffs.

“I doubt he’d return the feelings.”

“You never know. And hey-he’s your friend too. It might be a little awkward if he doesn’t like you like  _ that  _ but nothing y’all wouldn’t be able to get through.”

Dirk huffed through his nose and Roxy smiled.

“When he comes back to school.. I’ll give it a go.”

He looks out the large windows that line the cafeteria and the sun gleams harshly into his eyes as it reflects off of the snow, but he doesn’t look away even though it hurts.

It’s so beautiful, maybe that’s why it hurts so much.

Maybe beautiful things are meant to hurt.

  
  


Dave seemed none the wiser, but he was sure that Dirk had been gathering scraps of metal and wire for a project. Just based on the sheer amount of materials he’s seen Dirk scraping together, he can only assume it would be a big one. 

“Dirk,” He peeked into the boy’s room, his door was open, a sign that he didn’t mind company or socializing. “I’m headed out to work, little man, I’ll see you after.”

Dirk looked up from his notebook and nodded.

“See you later, Bro.”

Dave smiled and the corner of Dirk’s lips twitched, the closest he’d get to a smile from the other.

There was a time when he smiled with his teeth, did he forget that too? Or had he moved past the need to express how he felt to his brother?

Dave’s mind swirled as he drove to work, a small publishing company. It was a better job than any of the others he’s had over the years, especially the one that sometimes crept into his dreams and turned them into nightmares.

It makes him remember James, he still has his number saved in his phone. 

He remembers so much and it’s starting to feel like Dirk remembers nothing at all.

Maybe he should try and get him in therapy, or just take him to the doctor? He’d have to talk with him about it, he never wanted to force Dirk into something he didn’t want to do but maybe that would help?

Sometimes it felt like Dirk was far away, but his bedroom door was always open.

A simple reminder that he was no farther than down the hall.

  
  


Dirk has been soldering (it’s slow and shaky as he’s using a tiny lighter shaped like a blowtorch), twisting together wire and typing code for hours, but he thinks he’s made some progress with this one. 

**TT: hello?**

He waits, holds his breath and there’s a few moments where the cursor blinks on the screen and then- the program crashes and Dirk can only drop his head into his hands, a loud and annoyed sigh forcing its way past his lips.

Back to square one.

  
  


Dirk was still awake when Dave finally came back home, tired and cold, glad to be back in the warmth of the apartment even though they still had a habit of keeping it low so that they didn’t run a high electricity bill. 

He finally stumbled out of his bedroom, smiling at his brother who was just as tired as he was.

“What’re you still doing up?”

Dirk just nodded to his bedroom door and Dave nodded. “That new project, hm? It’s going to be a big one, isn’t it?”

Dirk’s lips quirked up and he nodded, rolling his shoulders back and rubbing the back of his neck. Dave knows that he must’ve been hunched over his desk for hours, probably the entire time he was at work.

“Want to order something?”

Dirk nodded again and Dave motioned to the futon, smiling to himself when Dirk sat down and Dave grabbed his phone to make an order at their favorite takeout place, it was rare that he had a moment to just sit with Dirk and relax.

Even after all these years, he was still constantly working.

“Bro?”

“Mm?” He sat down next to him, crossing his legs and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. Dirk doesn’t know when he took his shades off, or when he partially unbuttoned his shirt but he can see the bags under his eyes.

He must be tired, he’s  _ always  _ tired, and yet, he’s taking care of Dirk rather than getting any rest.

“Oh it’s, it’s nothing, never mind.”

Dave gave him a searching look, like he didn’t quite believe him before nodding slowly.

“Okay. I got a call from your school today, they’re considering placing you in all advanced classes this year, or maybe next year.”

“What about Roxy and Jake?”

It always brought a small smile to Dave’s face when he mentioned his friends, because it meant that he had them and based on how attached he was, that they must be good to him.

“I don’t know, Dirk, I’m sure you can all talk about it. Do you want to take advanced classes?”

“I want to learn more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. I uh,” His eyes darted from Dave’s face and he ran a hand through his hair, mussy from his endless work.

It worried Dave, that he worked so much, like he was running out of time.

He wasn’t, not yet, not like Dave who  _ knows  _ that as he got older, his options would grow to be less and less in abundance.

“I want to know more, and my classes are already so easy.”

“You want to take them?” Dave asked again, and Dirk looked away and nodded.

“Yes. But I still want to tell Jake and Roxy.”

“Okay.”

The doorbell rang and the conversation ended there, as most seemed to if they ever began. It was a boring repetitiveness, a  _ new routine,  _ though it was not one that they ever truly acknowledged, but simply felt obligated to see through whenever they crossed paths.

Dave paid for the food and they shared it together from the same container with two forks, on occasion they would bump and the metal would grate.

A routine not unlike any other, but somehow, felt so different.

It was the start of something, but Dave didn’t know what, all he knew was that there was the heady and cold feeling of something on the horizon, drifting ominously like some Lovecraftian horror, some  _ creature  _ that had been slumbering for thousands of years and only now, as they did something so mundane as this, did Dave found himself scared of it.

Scared for Dirk and what he couldn’t remember, scared for the friends he’d made, scared of Jake’s supposed  _ danger,  _ scared that one day—

He looked at Dirk, who was watching TV, no longer eating despite having not eaten much.

That one day… Dirk would not be beside him.

It was a strange feeling.

“Goodnight, Bro.”

Dirk stood up and stretched, and when his shirt rode up, Dave could see his ribs.

How long has he gone without really eating?

“Goodnight, baby bro.” Dirk nodded and rested his arms against his side, going to walk away when Dave spoke again.

“I love you.”

“....I love you too.”

The heaviness that rested upon them was like foreshadowing, and he spoke again before Dirk could leave.

“How do you feel about therapy?”

“Therapy?” Dirk parroted back, and Dave nodded, unsure of how Dirk would respond, and as he expected, it was a carefully articulated answer.

“Why would I need to?”

Dave paused, and considered. It was.. hard to say, it was hard to explain that Dirk was missing something, that his memories had been misplaced but how could he, when those orange sodapop eyes were watching him curiously but with a sort of sharpness.

Dirk always did hate feeling vulnerable.

“It’d be good for you. For  _ us.” _

Dirk stared at him, searching for something and then he nodded, just once.

“Okay.”

He went to his room, and Dave heard the door closed- he always closed the door when he went to bed, but it was like a death toll. 

Dave turned back towards the TV, closed the styrofoam container and flicked the television off as he placed the unfinished food on the table, forks laying haphazardly on the table.

Dirk’s eyes, as lively as they were, even though he’d been told many times that they were “blank” and “lifeless”, had never seemed so cold.

As cold as the snow.


End file.
